


Cat's Out of the Bag

by reynkout



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bedroom Sex, Body Worship, Boot Worship, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Fingerfucking, Gratuitous Smut, Light BDSM, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Sex, Surprises, Teasing, Trans Character, Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 06:24:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10985211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reynkout/pseuds/reynkout
Summary: Shiro comes home to something out of a rom-com movie. Needless to say, he loves it.





	Cat's Out of the Bag

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy this short fic. Work has been mega crazy, but I was able to scrounge up something during my lunch breaks. Not beta'd, so I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes.

Shiro comes home to something out of a rom-com movie.

He rubs his eyes in disbelief. Sure, maybe he didn’t get enough sleep the past few nights, and maybe his mind was playing tricks on him because of that. Perhaps there’s been a robbery, but what type of thief would draw all the curtains, scatter the walkway with rose petals, and illuminate the darkness with gorgeous-smelling candles? It doesn’t really matter. Shiro is too tired to care.

Toeing off his work shoes, he lets out a sigh of relief when his feet feel the coolness of the floor tiles through his socks. He decides to peel those off, too. Shiro makes a mental note to pick them up later and chuck them into the wash. Right now, though, he’s too fixated on following where the red rose petals lead; Shiro all but tiptoes through his apartment.

Everything looks like how it has always been. The picture frames are all in order, hung perfectly and dust-free, the way he like it. It’s not so much choice as it is how he was brought up to be, especially with his time in the military.

The door to his bedroom is shut, but the path of roses doesn’t seem to end there. He can see bits and pieces of roses from under the door, signalling that his destination, wherever it might lead, continues through here. A ball of anticipation grows in the pit of Shiro’s belly, but he allows himself to knock once, twice on the door before placing his hand on the knob. The doorknob is cold, it’s brass metal clouding over with humidity as Shiro’s hands are warm, probably sweating with the amount of “what if” scenarios flying through his head. He needs to know what it is behind the door. If only he can find it in him to open it…

And then Shiro turns the knob, pushing open the door to a scene that fits the whole apartment’s mysterious, _romantic_ atmosphere.

The bedroom, usually bright and cool colored, is now shadowed with the warmth of soft candlelight, casting lazy shadows upon the walls. Shiro’s bed is doused in the same warm colors, dark blue duvet swapped for a maroon one. It looks velvety, so soft and plush that it would feel amazing against his skin.

Upon the red sheets is something that draws the breath from Shiro’s lungs, _someone_ that takes Shiro’s breath away. Keith lounges on the bed, a racy magazine plopped on his lap, turning the thin, colored pages almost nonchalantly as he barely notices when Shiro enters the room. A smirk crawls onto his very cherry red lips, which are shiny in the candlelight; Keith must have put some type of lip gloss on prior to Shiro’s arrival.

“Baby,” he purrs, sliding the magazine from him and off the bed. Shiro could care less of what happens to it because Keith is already crooking a finger at him, telling him to come hither. “You’re finally home.”

Shiro’s eyes are fixed on the intricate leather that encases Keith’s long, elegant legs. Keith is wearing stiletto-heeled boots, all shiny leather with red at the underside of the shoes. It accentuates his limbs, compliments his figure, and makes Shiro feel like prey in a predator's den. Shiro wants to kneel, crawl and grovel at Keith's boots for affirmation. He wants whatever Keith is willing to give him.

Keith stares at him with dark, sultry eyes, a smirk eminent on his plush lips. His violet eyes are rimmed with a metallic kohl, smudged to effortless perfection. It reminds Shiro of lion's eyes, so sharp and acutely aware of everything happening around him. His face's high points are dusted in a glimmering, golden highlight powder, and Shiro _swears_ Keith looks like some spiritual deity. God, Shiro looks closer. Keith has put on lip gloss as red as cherries to complete his look.

"You're home." It's not so much an exclamation than it is a statement. Keith sounds as dangerous as he looks, and Shiro is willing to risk his life to be with him. "Come here, big guy."

Shiro's mouth goes wet with the arousal simmering in the core of his being. His footsteps are heavy on the carpeted floor, his pulse elevating with each foot forward. He does not know what the special occasion is, or what spurred Keith on to do such a thing like this, but he is not one to complain. In fact, he loves every bit of this scene.

Keith is putting a hand on his shoulder when his feet touch Keith's shoes. Shiro gulps as he notices the little love bite he left on Keith earlier this morning, before he rolled out of bed and rushed to work. It sticks out clearly against Keith's fair skin, so red and mottled pink on his delicate collarbone. His fingertips itch to trace it, press on the skin and watch the shiver of pleasure run through Keith's body.

Keith smacks his lips once, free hand setting aside the zine he was reading onto the nightstand. "You must be tired from a long day of work." he says, and his long eyelashes flutter teasingly. "Why don't you sit down for a little while?" He applies pressure to Shiro's shoulder, forcing him to sink to his shins.

“Thank you.” It comes out of Shiro's mouth automatically, as if he's fallen under Keith's spell. He kneels at Keith's feet, waiting for another command, another instruction for him to obey.

A wicked grin emerges onto Keith's red lips. “No need to thank me. I should be the one adoring you… _daddy_.” He says it with such a sultry tone; Shiro lets himself loosen up a little, relax and melt into those words. He loves it when Keith gets like this.

“You didn't have to do any of this for me, baby.” Shiro responds seamlessly. He refuses to break the scene.

Keith peers down at him, peers down his nose at Shiro, but it he look he gives the man isn't disgust or malice. Instead, he looks at Shiro with pride, courage, love. Shiro feels absolutely appreciated in this moment. Keith hikes a leg up, the toe of his shoe pressing slightly on Shiro's ever-growing bulge in his pants. Shiro can't deny that he is highly turned on by all this, by Keith.

“But I wanted to. I really, really felt like doing it tonight, daddy.” Keith puts on a mock pout, giving Shiro the best imitation of puppy eyes. Shiro swears that his heart is about to pound right out of his chest.

“Mm, I can’t say no to you.” Shiro admits, and it is the truth. He tries not to jerk when Keith’s boot slides up his body, from his crotch, along his navel, up his torso, and finally to his chin. The leather must be new, Shiro figures as he tilts his face down to kiss at the top of Keith’s shoe.

“Of course not.” Keith looks smug as he drops his foot suddenly, letting it land dangerously close between Shiro’s legs. “Can I ask you a favor, papi?”

Shiro gulps, nodding a little too eagerly. He can feel himself slipping, mind blanking as Keith carries out his planned agenda for tonight. “Anything for you, baby. What do you need?”

“Shine my boots for me?” Keith asks softly. “Pretty, pretty please?”

Scooting back, Shiro does not need to be told what to twice. He gets down on his hands, as he is already on his knees, pressing his suddenly parched lips to the smooth tip of Keith’s boot. His breath leaves condensation on it as he breathes, taking in the scent of the genuine leather. His eyes close for a second, relishing in the moment before he opens them again, gazing up at Keith.

He hears Keith gasp when his pink tongue peeks out from his lips, flattening over the material of Keith’s shoe. Shiro licks a stripe over the curvature of the boot, saliva leaving a shiny coat over it. Never mind the slurping noises coming from his mouth; Shiro knows he is turning himself on as well as Keith from this act of submission. With this, he aims to please, polishing Keith’s shoes with his spit. Though it does not taste like much, he enjoys the view of Keith’s flushed face staring down at him.

“Ah, papi. That’s good.” Keith praises. “Why don’t you come up here?”

Yes. Yes, that sounds like an excellent suggestion. Shiro lets Keith cup his cheeks, guiding him up until he is at his inner thighs. Shiro cannot explain how grateful he is that Keith is void of any clothing or accessories besides the leather boots, because he can see _everything_ his boy has to offer.

Nipping at the creamy flesh of Keith’s legs, Shiro brings a hand down to palm at himself, feeling the member in his pants growing hard with lust. He can smell the slick from Keith’s parts, wetting those beautiful folds of his. His mouth draws nearer to the source of that enticing scent, teeth all the while biting little love marks to match the one on Keith’s collarbone. Shiro stops to the left of Keith’s folds that are puffy with want.

“Right here?” Shiro asks, straining his eyes to look at his baby.

Keith nods briefly. “Yesss,” he hisses as Shiro drags his tongue over him. It feels so good; he is sure there isn’t any person to do this better than his man. “Hurry up.” he pants. “Make me come, then fuck me like no one else has.”

“Like no one else ever _will_.” Shiro growls possessively. He does not beat around the bush, though, getting to the task with haste and urgency.

Keith tips his head back, toes curling in ecstasy. Shiro is so good at this, giving him head, taking in all of his fluids, making him grip at the bedsheets when he is on the verge of coming. It feels so good; Shiro’s tongue knows all the places to press and lick and swirl against. One of his hands grasps at the white section of Shiro’s hair, pulling at it slightly.

He moans. “Ooh, right there.” Keith’s mouth is about to form Shiro’s name, when he stops himself. Instead he opts for, “Fuck, daddy.”

Shiro chuckles, sending Keith keening for more stimulation. He stops his administrations to reply, “Soon, baby, soon. Let me give you _more_.”

Keith drops onto the rest of the way on the bed, pushing his hips up into Shiro’s mouth as he sighs contently. The knot of pressure is building within his stomach, getting denser and denser with each flick of Shiro’s pink tongue; he doesn’t expect it when Shiro suddenly pushes it into his entrance, the muscle wiggling inside him.

“Ah!” he yelps, taken by surprise. “Shiro!” he keens.

His thighs threaten to slam together, but he leaves them spread open, not wanting to hurt Shiro. Shiro is fucking him with his tongue, jabbing in and out quickly in a way that makes Keith tickle, but it feels absolutely exquisite. He’s about to come, and Shiro is abusing his sensitive nub in the best of ways.

Keith yelps when Shiro stops abruptly then, leaving him wet and utterly wanting. He whines, Gyrating his hips. He looks at Shiro with begging eyes, mouth slightly open; a line of drool seeps from his pink lips. He is about to complain when Shiro slams two fingers into his hole, eradicating any previous words stuck in Keith’s throat. All there is are unadulterated sounds of pleasure.

“Shi- ahh!” Keith’s muscles clench down on Shiro’s digits, tight like a vice. “ _Oh, daddy!!_ ”

“Let it all out, baby. I’ve got you.” Shiro smirks before settling back on Keith’s mound. A third finger wiggles its way into Keith, stretching him wide.

Keith is near thrashing around the bed as Shiro stimulates him even more. The knot in his stomach is about to unravel, and he can’t be more vocal to warn Shiro that he is about to come.

It takes him like an avalanche; Keith can only remember gasping before the intense feeling of his orgasm shakes him to the core. His back arcs, every sinew in his body snapping taut. His mind is completely blank, save for the burned-in image of Shiro still licking him out. His ears are stuffed as if there are filled with cotton. Keith doesn’t know how long he has been floating in orgasmic bliss, but he feels amazing, so relaxed.

“That’s so good, Shiro.” Keith finally finds that he can piece together sentences again, a hand stroking Shiro’s head affectionately.

“I’m glad, baby.” Shiro responds without hesitation.

Keith takes Shiro’s hand in his, guiding him up his body. Shiro feels Keith wrap his lithe legs around his waist, pressing against Shiro’s obvious erection.

“Fuck me good, daddy.” Keith demands, his eyes half-lidded, irises gleaming with mischief. “You know how I like it, papi.”

Shiro can’t say he doesn’t to his baby. He aims to please, and he always will.

“Gladly, my little Keithy-cat.”

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Loved it? Let Keithy-Cat know by giving this fic a kudo and/or a comment!  
> I would love to hear your feedback.


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